


My Landlord's a Vampire

by JustAddSalt



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Multi, Secret Santa, Trans Male Character, trans!gavin, vampire!Ryan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21908140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAddSalt/pseuds/JustAddSalt
Summary: Michael's sure of a lot of things. The world is round, Catherine is a shitty game, and vampire's don't exist. What happens when he finds out one of these things isn't true at all?Prompt:AH Supernatural AU | Ryan Haywood is a vampire. No one knows this. He opens his home to two young roommates- Michael and Gavin- for cheap rent. How do they react when they find out he's a vampire?
Relationships: Gavin Free/Michael Jones, Gavin Free/Ryan Haywood/Michael Jones
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	My Landlord's a Vampire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sorcererinslytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorcererinslytherin/gifts).



> It's that time of year again! Hope you enjoy it, Hannah <3
> 
> P.S. Had to do this in vignettes or else this fic would've been WAAAAY too long lmao

"Sign here."  
  


He scrawled his signature, then flipped the page.  
  


"And here."  
  


It was Sunday afternoon. The sun was just low enough to filter through cracks in the shutters and two glasses of sweet ice tea, both half empty. He scribbled another signature, followed by a page of initials; MJ in deteriorating levels of clarity. The packet was set aside and another one put in its place.  
  


"Is this a real suit of armor?"  
  


The pen stopped. Michael turned to look behind him just as Ryan lifted his head from the paperwork. The sight of Gavin getting his greasy fingers all over the polished set of armor near the banister had Michael groaning and rolling his eyes. He was tapping it with his knuckles, poking it's sides, and opening and closing the faceplate like a fucking child.  
  


Michael argued, "Of course it isn't _real—_ "  
  


"Actually," Ryan interjected, though before he could finish Michael and Gavin were already staring at him in disbelief. He seemed startled at first, but then he cleared his throat. "Y'know it's uh, a family heirloom of sorts. Been around since the— Oh, I wanna say... Fourteenth century?"  
  


"Holy shit, seriously?" Michael was quick to yell at Gavin after, "That means stop touching it you fucking savage! Now quit dicking around and sign the stupid lease."  
  


Ryan chuckled. "It's fine. If it can stand up against the Forty Years War I'm sure it can take a few fingerprints."  
  


Gavin, whose jaw was the only thing that moved, went right back to furiously investigating the armor. "No way! You're havin' a laugh. This can't possibly be the real deal."  
  


"You should tell that to the museum that tried buying it off my great grandfather then." Ryan answered offhandedly while tidying the stack of papers.

* * *

Turns out that wasn't the only relic Ryan kept. In the months spent adjusting to their new living space both Michael and Gavin came across a wide array of "knick knacks" and "hand-me-downs" that Ryan happened to own. Bits of armor, old coins, parts of a suit Michael assumed were costume pieces. The most impressive of all was the small collection of ancient weapons Ryan housed in the attic; all of them in near perfect condition.  
  


Which begged the question: who keeps a 16th century rapier in their attic?  
  


"Vampires, that's who." Gavin argued one game night when the topic of their cryptic landlord came up yet again.  
  


Michael didn't care much for his theories, but Alfredo on the other hand, "Or maybe he's some kinda time traveler." Then, "Oh oh! Or maybe he's that dude from Night at the Museum."  
  


"He could just be a werewolf." Trevor piled on.  
  


But Gavin dismissed it, " _Naaah_ , werewolves don't live that long."  
  


"How would you know?"  
  


Their rambling carried on as Michael picked through his cards and played a red four. Gavin played a yellow four, then Jeremy with a yellow two. They went through the motions even as the theories got out of hand and gestures even moreso. Eventually Michael couldn't stop himself. "He's not a vampire you morons."  
  


Alfredo slapped down a blue five and eyed him, "Yeah, where's the proof?"  
  


"I made garlic bread two weeks ago and he ate half of it."  
  


The table fell silent.  
  


"Ooh yeah, huh..." Gavin looked up with a finger to his chin. When he looked back down there was a wild draw four in front of him. " _MICHAEL_ _!_ "  
  


"What? He did."  
  


Gavin shot him a dirty look as he began drawing his cards. "Remind me never to sit next to you on uno night again."

* * *

That was hardly the end of Gavin's conspiracy theories. They started with the obvious, and most absurd, but slowly evolved into something more realistic; that he was a serial killer or some kind of thief. Still, neither held much water and had about as much evidence going for them as the Roswell incident. In reality he was just another guy. An awkward, middle aged, and historical nerd kind of guy that they only saw on a rare occasion, but certainly not some mythological beast. Still, the theories kept Gavin entertained.  
  


They did so for about a year after signing the lease before beginning to taper off. Ryan was still a virtual enigma, but Gavin didn't talk his usual nonsense before bed while Michael combed his hair and checked twitter, humming to give Gavin the impression he was listening. At some point it just stopped. He'd talk, sure, but not of Ryan or his odd habits. Michael didn't think much of it.  
  


Not until one afternoon when Gavin was particularly fidgety. Michael had just gotten home from work and promptly tore Gavin from his computer to sit him on his lap instead.  
  


"Michael I'm working—" Gavin complained at first, but the words died soon after Michael got a hold of Gavin's neck. He kissed him from his earlobe down the side of his throat causing him to whine both in protest and need. " _Michael_..." He drew his name out like a song; one horribly out of tune but it was music nonetheless.  
  


Michael rumbled, his teeth grazing skin, "Yeah, baby?"  
  


God, he loved the way he'd squirm. Like when he'd grab his hips in just the right way or when he'd tease him under the sheets for several minutes before finally stripping him out of his soaked briefs and giving him just what he begged for.  
  


But something was different when Michael held him then. He didn't notice it at first, but Gavin wasn't batting at his chest or coming up with lame excuses like he always did, rather he was struggling against Michael's grasp like a trapped animal. He wiggled around at first then began to thrash about until Michael finally had to toss him on the opposite side of the couch, releasing a squawk from the back of his throat.  
  


Michael huffed, "What's going on with you?" He noted the way Gavin physically turned away from the question. He squinted and grabbed Gavin by the chin, "Hey, no, none of that pouting shit. Talk to me."  
  


Gavin's face sort of squished in his hand as he sighed, muffling whatever he was trying to say. When Michael asked a second time he shoved Michael's hand away and repeated himself, "I have a problem..."  
  


"What? Did you get your period again?"  
  


"What!?" Gavin's face went red. "No! For christ sake—"  
  


"Well then what's the problem?"  
  


If it weren't for his concern, Michael would almost find it cute the way Gavin averted his gaze and tried hiding behind his hands. Even though he was free, he was shifting the entire time. Finally, he got the words out.  
  


"I think I like Ryan..."  
  


There was a beat. Michael wanted to laugh, but the utter fear on Gavin's face told him that he was serious and maybe laughing wasn't the best way to react.  
  


It wasn't like it was strange. After all, Gavin had slept with his fair share of pretty girls, and Michael only cared that Gavin was happy and none of them wound up pregnant. He was always the more open one. Hell, even if Gavin didn't sleep with everyone he'd still flirt nonstop with anyone who'd give him the time of day. It had something to do with liking the attention, if Michael's memory served.  
  


No, what was strange was how timid he was about a crush. The only time Michael had ever seen him so nervous before was when Gavin first asked him out; his leg bouncing the entire time and beer label ripped to pieces on the bottle, bits of it under his fingernails.  
  


The evidence was there, but still he had to ask, "You serious?"  
  


Gavin nodded.  
  


"Shit... Okay," He got up from the couch, leaving Gavin confused and frantic before returning a minute later with a couple of beers. He handed Gavin his and sat beside him again. "Well, alright, let's talk about this."

* * *

Adaptation was key, as with any other species. Though the game was different with a seemingly endless lifespan and having been around for over five hundred years already. It meant cycling through different identities, backstories, and roaming from country to country to keep suspicion off his trail. Even if hunters were sparse and unorganized he still couldn't risk anyone becoming too familiar with his face.   
  


Somehow he, and the rest of the planet, made it to the twenty first century. What was more astounding was the amount of momentos he'd managed to bring with him. While they seemed odd to the young couple, he'd brought in to help pay off the new house and keep it running, they didn't inherently give him away. In fact, Michael enjoyed the weapons and Gavin was fascinated by the history. Both of them were none the wiser.  
  


Okay, so Gavin seemed to think something was up, but he never made any harsh accusations. Anytime he called him a vampire, it was a joke. Ryan heard the way him and Michael would talk about it. _"Only vampires do that"_ or _"Where do you think he keeps his blood packs? Maybe he keeps someone locked up in a secret cellar"_. Ryan was just the creepy landlord that was almost never around and Gavin ran with it. Besides, it's not like Gavin posed much of a threat. To himself, maybe, but even if he told someone who was he going to tell? The internet? Ryan was in the clear.  
  


Or, at least in his house, he was. It was a different story outside. One involving a clever hunter who happened upon him while having a midnight snack. The poor guy didn't make it out alive, but he sure as hell left a mark. Several in fact. There were several lacerations down Ryan's arms from where he blocked his face from a serrated blade, a few jabs to his side from both fist and broken glass, plus an assortment of bruises all over. All of which were already beginning to heal.  
  


All except for the three foot pole sticking out from under his ribcage. He missed his spine— _Thank God—_ but there was no easy way to get rid of it, plus it ruined a perfectly NASA shirt of his. Ryan spat blood at the ground and cursed himself.  
  


To think he'd die just shy of his 700th birthday.  
  


No. No he had to get home. It wasn't that far away, and if he could make it that far he could use the power tools in the garage to maybe saw off the twisted ends of metal. It was his only chance. So he picked himself up and left the gorey alley behind, taking odd back ways and empty streets to get himself back home.  
  


Thankfully he made it that far before his legs gave out. And thankfully the place was empty. It was game night, or something, so the lads were gone and no one else was around to hear all the crashing and banging of Ryan searching furiously for the right tool. Boxes were shoved aside, nails scattered, and workbench overturned. There was blood everywhere and all Ryan could think of was how much of a bitch that'd be to clean up later.  
  


"Holy shit— Ryan!?"  
  


The shout froze him in place. He was on the floor, propping himself up with one arm while holding a power saw in the other. His eyes shined opalescent and golden in the cellphone's flashlight even as he squinted against it.  
  


"... You're home early..." Ryan croaked.  
  


It was Michael. Well, Michael and Gavin, but Gavin was back just inside of the house and loudly puking into what Ryan hoped was a trash can. Michael turned on the garage lights and rushed over to his side, cursing the entire way.  
  


"Yeah, you're fucking lucky— What the hell happened?" Michael was looking over the damage, eyes never leaving him even as he shouted back towards Gavin, "Get a hold of yourself and call a fucking ambulance!"  
  


"Wait, no—" Ryan winced when Michael tried to sit him upright. "Don't call an ambulance."  
  


"What, did you hit your fucking head or something? If we don't get that thing out of you you're going to fucking die!"  
  


"Yeah well," Shit. Ryan hesitated. As much as he didn't want to take advantage of Michael he was quickly running out of options.  
  


"Damnit—" Suddenly Ryan's tone dropped. He reached out and grabbed Michael by the front of his shirt, "Michael, _look at me_."

**...**

Gavin wasn't sure what was going on. Did he actually see what he saw? Was Ryan really skewered and bleeding out or did he and Jeremy's drinking contest go one step too far? He desperately wanted to believe in the latter, but Michael was yelling and he knew there was no way he was dreaming everything up.  
  


He forced himself away from the corner he'd hid himself in and the helmet he'd absolutely ruined, but when his trembling hands finally got his phone unlocked everything had gone quiet. His thumb hovered over the second one while he waited for something— anything. The silence stirred uncomfortably in his stomach to the point where he thought he might lose it again.  
  


"Michael?" Gavin called out meekly. He didn't want to look, but he swallowed hard before peaking around the doorframe.  
  


Lucky for him, Michael was blocking most of the carnage. Relief was fleeting, however, when Gavin noted how still Michael was. He was nearly a statue, and around him Ryan was sat similarly though his lips were moving and eyes shining an unnatural light. Gavin felt as though he shouldn't be watching, but he couldn't move. He couldn't even bring himself to breathe in fear of casting a rift in whatever it was he was witnessing.  
  


He nearly jumped out of his skin when Michael finally said, "Don't call an ambulance."  
  


"B-but—"  
  


"Put the phone down, Gavin." Michael never turned to face him and kept speaking in a tone that wasn't his. In spite of the roaring instinct to turn and run, Gavin stayed and dropped his phone instead.  
  


"Good. Now go to bed."  
  


Gavin choked, "What—"  
  


" _I said go!_ " They shouted in unison.  
  


And Gavin did. He scrambled away from the door, his phone, and whatever the hell was going on in the garage and ran straight for him and Michael's bedroom. The last thing he heard as he slammed the door behind him was humming of the power saw.

* * *

So Ryan was a vampire after all. A seven hundred and one year old blood sucking monster who enjoyed bad puns and diet coke. Michael almost couldn't believe the irony of it all. What's more, he couldn't believe that him and Gavin were actually dating that monster.  
  


It took them another few months after finding Ryan in the garage for Gavin to bring up his attraction again. Even with the fangs and everything Gavin was still into him, and maybe Michael was too (although he never let Ryan play his mind control tricks on him ever again). Ryan was noticeably shocked when Gavin brought up the question, but then again they did agree to continue living with him and his secret even after everything came to light. After some thought he seemed to realize that maybe it wasn't the craziest thing to happen to him, and said yes.  
  


So the three of them spent Ryan's birthday in the comfort of an oversized blanket. Michael had put on the worst vampire movie he could find. Naturally it quickly turned into Ryan's ongoing commentary of how unrealistic everything was while Michael and Gavin snuggled up on either side of him.  
  


"Okay," Michael cut in while giggling over his beer, "but have you ever seen or read Twilight?"  
  


The response he got was gold. Ryan tossed his head back and groaned with all the air in his lungs. "Michael I swear to god—"  
  


Gavin snickered, "Well don't go bringin' God into this, Rye, or else you might burst into flame."  
  


"Alright, that's it. C'mere you."  
  


Michael was left with the rest of the blanket as he watched Ryan tackle Gavin onto the other side of the couch. He burst out laughing at the sight of Gavin flailing and pleading amongst all his own laughter while Ryan made an exaggerated biting gesture towards Gavin.  
  


"Michael! Help!" Gavin trilled and squeaked.  
  


"Nah dude, you're on your own!"  
  


As the room dissolved into their childish antics Michael couldn’t help but think about how crazy it was. To go from thinking unicorns were bullshit to dating an actual vampire was  _ insane _ , but there he was. There  _ they  _ were; the only two boys in the world he’d give up anything for, even a little blood. 


End file.
